The Girl Across the River
by izpoplo
Summary: She longed to be free, and he was freedom. It was either the horizon in her hands, or her home at her feet.
1. Fireside

The Girl Across The River: Opening

He could recall the moment his eyes first fell on her vividly; the way her feet fell against the ground as she twirled in circles, how sparks flew up, surrounding her like small pixies kissing her body, the way her white dress fell against her pale skin, her golden hair billowing out behind her.

He remembered every curve, every movement, and every aspect of her entire being. She was captivating, astonishing, out of this world.

Most importantly, she was like nothing he had ever seen before.

He had sat quietly and watched her for hours, breath hitching every time she stepped too close to the fire. Or maybe it was the fact that it was like she was mingling with him, it was him burning around her, silhouetting her.

He knew he could never forget this night, no matter how much he tried, but deep down inside, he knew he didn't want to forget.


	2. Horizon

She let out a deep breath, back arching inwards slightly.

Her eyes trailed over the blanket she had knitted using just her arms and some wool from her favorite sheep. Her lips pressed together as she recalled hazy memories of sitting between her mother's legs as she watched her craft beautiful blankets arranged of many colors. A bead of sweat worked its way down her temple, trailing across her jawline.

She swore she hated working on days like this, but she knew deep down it was a distraction from her unsettling case of wanderlust.

Her mind was roused abruptly from her dream like state, a whistle sounding from the gathering circle outside of her small wooden cabin.

She finished up quickly, leaving the blanket for later work. Her feet led her outside, bare feet hitting the rich soil. Her body was directed towards the circle, moving step by step, but her mind was once again in countries she could only dream of seeing. For now they would stay stationary in books, laughing at her from silky pages.

Her thoughts once again caught up with current time, feet stopping as she came across the gathering of her kin.

They all wore serious expressions. It was almost like they had practiced, they wore them almost too well. Not one falter, not one grimace, just a stern melancholy mask. She tried not to linger on the idea for too long, and focused on the topics that were being passed back and forth in front of her.

She imagined grabbing every topic, looking it over, and passing it along to be thrown around again. Food was an orange ball, unknown visitors was gray, and made up of mist, sickness was purple and sticky, threats were red and sharp, farming was soft yet stiff, and seasons were a mix of them all.

She cursed herself mentally again for not paying attention, but she had heard this conversation a hundred times over.

"We need to draw our attention onto preparing for the dry spell."

"A dry spell is least of our worries; half our people have dropped dead this year."

"It's just a flu, our healers are trying their hardest to help. I agree that the dry spell is quite troubling."

"We should start storing up food; winter will approach quickly after this summer."

Her eyes flicked to the oldest member of their pack, who was chuckling in the corner, hands laced together as she relaxed on a bench, cuddled up in a blanket she had woven a few months prior. Everyone's eyes soon laid on her as she rocked slightly. Her eyes were brown, and slightly milky from something she calls her wisdom layer. She quietly recalled reading about cataracts in a book that was brought back from a visit to the town closest to them.

This old woman was her granny, the wife of the previous leader; he died from a fight between him and a passing group of town folks. The ancient woman attempts to reassure the pack that not all visitors are the same, but they still remain on edge whenever someone passes.

She recollected from a few meetings ago, when the pack leader, her father, brought to everyone's attention, that only the toughest members of the pack were to talk to visitors. The whole meeting had disgusted her, because she knew behind it all, it was just her father trying to tie all of the maidens down, so they don't go and fall in love with some nomad.

The granny opened her mouth, gathering everyone's attention.

"The fireflies will pass, as will our troubles. You must not worry children; our ancestors shall shield our backs from any rocks being thrown."

She smiled softly; her granny's always knew when to speak, and what to say.

"This meeting shall be dismissed until we are all in our right mind." The granny nodded.

She looked around as there was a collection of sighs, and people letting their facades fall.

Her eyes rested back on the old woman, who was motioning for her to come towards her. She quietly made her way over.

The woman had lifted a wrinkled hand up, which she took to assist her with standing up. She swore she could hear her bones creak and crack with every moment. They walked for a while, towards the chaotic river that marked the edge of their territory. The sun was setting along the trees, filling the sky with a purple shine.

"You have to leave this clan, child. It's no place for a child like you to grow up."

She opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted.

"I've seen the way you read those books, and the desire in your eyes, by the time of the next gathering, you shall be free."

She nodded, blinking back tears that enveloped her eyes, covering them with a blurry embrace. She couldn't decide if she was crying because of her granny's words, the fact that she might miss this place, or the horizon finally settling into her grasp.

0-0-0-0

He groaned, collapsing on a rotting log. He let out a small angry cry as he fell through, bark covering him.

He looked down at his feet, where his cat, Happy, had sat down, watching with amusement.

"Oh keep it to yourself, you damn ankle weight."

The cat looked hurt, although it couldn't understand; it could definitely hear the tone.

"I don't even know where the hell I am." He growled, standing up and brushing himself off.

He had realized he had made a wrong turn ages ago, yet he was too stubborn to turn back.

He set down his backpack, looking around for materials to start a fire as Happy curled up on a bed of moss. After a while, he had a fire up and going, and was snacking on some food he had collected from a town he had visited prior.

He stared into the crackling fire, as realization dawned upon him.

It was going to be a hellish long few days.


	3. Gathering

She grimaced, rolling her wrists out. It had been a long day of cooking and preparing for the gathering that would take place once the sun started migrating towards the trees.

Granny's words rung out clearly in her head, distracting her from the tasks she was faced with.

She knew her pack was going to be heavily influenced by alcohol, food and dancing, and her uneasiness would be simply overlooked.

She snapped her floured fingers, scoffing.

"You're over thinking it Lucy, just have fun." She whispered to herself, stirring some batter.

So she went onto cooking, absentmindedly tuning into the gossip that circled around the other girls. Their pack was fairly big, and others would be coming to join them tonight, so no doubt were the girls going to be looking for someone to protect them and give them good offspring.

She smiled to herself. She had a way better journey in store. Cheeses from around the world, travelling by boat and train, learning another language, she was practically bursting with ideas.

Her hands shook slightly as she placed the desert she had slaved over into the small oven.

Even though her pack hated outsiders, they still used outsider technology, which amused her.

She waited until her deserts were ready, taking them out and leaving them on the counter to cool. Her stomach bubbled up with nervousness as she watched people start setting up their gathering area. Her mouth tilted downwards slightly into a frown, deciding it was time for her to go get ready.

Her feet trudged through the grass, heading up to her shared cabin. Inside was her white dress, originally her mothers, which was used every gathering. She stripped down, and pulled it over her head, it was the only piece of clothing she owned that wasn't made by her or her kin. It was weightless, yet it hung beautifully, complimenting her pale features and blonde hair.

She smoothed it out, letting out a delicate sigh. She swore every time she wore this dress, it felt as if her mother was embracing her. She closed her eyes and let the moment sink in for a while more.

Her mother was one of the best dancers in the pack, and so was she, her relatives would claim. Yet she would just brush it aside, responding humbly.

Her ears picked up on approaching voices, and quietly slipped out the back door and towards the fire pit. She wondered if they had better gatherings out of this forest, and around the country.

The sky was darkening, and stars were lighting up. Her eyes trailed upwards and around as she counted all the signs twinkling above. Her ears tingled slightly as she picked up on a slight whisper, as she turned back to the fire.

People fed into the crowd, as the laughing and cheering got louder. She talked to many relatives, many complimenting her features, and how she has grown into her mother's exact replicate. She smiled through each and every encounter, basking in the music and food.

The fiddles cry soon picked up, as well as her feet, joining the other girls as they danced along the fire.

Her laughs rung out loud and clear, hands in the air.

Tonight, she lived now, no more living in the past or future.

0-0-0-0

His eyes opened slowly, looking towards the night sky. He groaned as he stretched out his sore neck, multiple pops sounding. His calloused hands rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight.

He looked over towards his partner in crime, and prodded him gently, who let out a soft meow.

It had been days, and he was still roaming the forest. He liked to think that he didn't leave sooner because he chose to, and not because he kept getting lost.

The sound of music and laughter filled his ears, it came from a while away, but it was still audible.

He got up, packing up his bag, a determined grin placed on his face.

He followed the sounds, and soon the smell of food followed. Drool began to fill up his mouth as he made his way closer, he could just make the outlines of a gathering, and a huge bonfire.

"Wicked." He whispered, inching closer, too distracted to notice the rushing water sounding below him.

He took another step, foot sliding, Happy let out a concerned meow as he regained his footing, looking below.

A large, rushing river sounded between them, threatening to destroy anything that got to close.

And across this river, was the gathering.

His eyes swept across tough men, and dainty woman until his eyes landed on her.

Blonde hair paired with pale skin and a white dress, she was like a star.

He shook off his corny thoughts, sitting down on the edge of the river to watch.

Her feet twisted, and turned in the dust, as the people around her, dressed in simplistic wools and furs watched with awe. The woman around her tried to keep up, but they fell short when it came down to it.

He stayed in place for what seemed like forever, watching her with intensity, noting the way she blushed when she was complimented, how men seemed to flock around when she had the spare moment, and her bright brown eyes.

He was awoken from his dream like state as a scream rung out.

He watched, horrified, as fire started to enshroud the area, blankets, treats, woven baskets all going up in flames. Men, warriors, circled the area, daring anyone to try and test them and their sharp weapons. Brave men stood tough, tucking woman and elders behind them protectively, but failed to stand strong as soon as they were hit.

His eyes landed on the golden haired girl, as she held onto a child's hand tightly, eyes burning with a cross between fear and rage.

He stood up, and looked down into the river below.

I _can't swim across, it would be death._

 _There are no stepping stones._

 _I guess I only have on option left, to jump._


	4. Salmon Pink

**Few Hours Previous (Lucy's POV)**

She had noticed the second he came in view, but prayed that the people surrounding her hadn't. He looked unreal, with pink hair and onyx eyes. For a few brief seconds, she had wondered what it would be like if it was him dancing with her, instead of the men of her pack and others. He looked so different; each of his features was striking and new. It was her first time seeing an outsider like him.

She realized that if anyone else had spotted him, it would've been uproar, so she took it upon herself to keep him a secret. Every time someone's gaze would travel towards his general area, she would try her hardest to keep all eyes on her, so she danced.

The night went by in a blur, faces flashing in and out of her view, each bringing different offerings of words. The taste of foreign foods was rich in her mouth, and laughter easily ran off the tip of her tongue. For once in a very long time, she felt okay with where she was, but she knew deep down, she would feel more okay if the man across the river was there with her.

She shook her head, trying to get such desperate thoughts out of her head, she spun in a small circle as she once again focused on the task at hand, having fun. It was moments in time like this that made her glad she was living and breathing.

She never realized just how fragile moments in time could be, until they were being squeezed in front of her very eyes.

There was fire, and screams. A child was latching onto her hand tightly, but it went unnoticed by Lucy, as she looked at the men who were occupied with the task of ripping her clan apart. Her body ran cold as she tried to make sense of what was going on. Her eyes searched back and forth quickly, keeping count of everyone she could. Her heart was thudding in her ears, hands shaking. The urge to vomit settled into the pit of her stomach.

A few feet away from her, a woman sobbed uncontrollably as she cradled her lost husband, her skin taking on a new sickly red tone that could only be known as blood.

The men started rounding up the women, prodding them and poking them as they shoved them into a tight circle. The men whistled and catcalled, vile words shooting through her veins as she watched.

The child behind her screamed, and she was unbearably aware of the hot burn of the fire, and the clammy, cold hand of the blue haired child beside her. It was Wendy.

Her sweet, young, sister like friend, was screaming bloody murder as she watched horror envelope in front of her naïve eyes. Wendy was known for her kind heart, contagious kindness, and her gentle self all together. She was becoming one of the best healers in the clan, which surprised many due to her age. Lucy knew all Wendy wanted to do at this direct moment, was help, but like Lucy, she was probably stuck to the ground with fear too.

She screamed for Grandine over and over, sobbing and screaming. The more she screamed the more attention she drew.

Lucy let out a subtle gasp, clasping her hand over Wendy's mouth. The men had already noticed, and were making their way towards the two with malicious expressions, and sinister eyes.

A calloused hand was suddenly swiftly grabbing hers, pulling her and Wendy along through the forest.

She caught an eyeful of pink as her feet slapped against the ground, not daring to stop. Something rang in the back of her mind, telling her she knew this mysterious person. Her chest was aching as she let herself be dragged by this unknown, yet known man, and she soon wondered just how long they had been running for, it seemed that time had been lost after her first step away from the bloodshed that lied behind them.

She finally mustered up the courage to look back, only to see fire, the men must've gone, and took the women with them.

Her eyebrows furrowed as they came to a halt, becoming aware of how taxing the whole situation was on her body. She looked towards Wendy, to find the girl in a much similar state, with her hands on her knees, taking deep gulps of breaths.

She finally looked towards the male, eyes widening slightly as she focused on his tanned skin, sharp eyes, and salmon pink hair.

He looked over her shoulder with a worried expression, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his pants.

"We should keep going, they could be following us." He turned back, much to her uncomfortableness, the last thing she wanted to see right now was a back, but maybe it was better after all, because it hid the fear that had to been taking form on her face.

"Okay." She attempted to respond, but all that came out was a scratchy whisper.

He started walking, sniffing the air every few moments. She quietly wondered, but her curiosity soon slipped away as Wendy grabbed a hold of her hand again.

Wendy's hand had brought back the terror of the night, yet she still gripped the young girl's hand with a motherly touch.

0-0-0-0

She sat up, sweat dripping down her back. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she took loud, deep breaths. Wendy slept beside her, curled up into a tight ball.

She let a hand rest on her chest as her eyes landed on the pink haired stranger, no, not stranger, savior.

He had told them his name earlier in the night, when they had first set up camp.

" _Natsu Dragneel." He had uttered out, playing with the white scarf that hung around his neck._

 _She introduced herself 'Lucy Heartfilia' tumbling from her lips rather ungracefully._

" _Wendy Marvell." Wendy whispered, looking down at the ground with round eyes._

He had cooked them a meal, well, more burnt it, but it was still comforting none the less. Kindness seemed to radiate from him, as if you could stand in a five foot radius, and all your problems would be cured.

He was now awake and staring right back at her with wide, curious eyes.

"Are you alright?" His clear, boyish voice rang out.

"Yeah, I was just thinking." She answered softly, settling back down.

"Alright, goodnight Luce."

She hardly knew him, and yet this man had already found a nickname for her. She furrowed her eyebrows, knowing it should have some negative affect on her, but all she could feel was a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes; hoping sleep would work its wonders.

But all through the night, thoughts of pink plagued her head, leading her to a night of restless sleep.


End file.
